lift
by rosenknoppen
Summary: It hurts to love someone and not be loved in return; but what is the most painful is to love someone and never find the courage to show the person how you feel until it was too late.


She should not have used the lift. She should have taken the staircase instead, she missed her workout session yesterday anyways.

Her foot was frozen between taking a step forward or a step back, but then he raised his eyebrow, silently asking her if she was getting in or not. Almost tripping, she moved forward and immediately pressed the 24th button so she had a reason to turn her back on him right away.

There was the _ping_ sound, and the doors closed. The elevator moved slowly up, and she resisted the urge to tap her foot on the floor with impatience. That would do her no good if she was to remain invisible to him.

The number on top of the door turned '3', and she rolled her eyes. She always thought lifts were the fastest way to get to her floor, but right now she felt that it was not doing its usual job. Her back was already stiff from her being self-conscious. She could feel him staring at her back ever since she got on.

"For someone who's going on a meeting, you sure know how to dress."

She stiffened some more, and she briefly wondered if her body would snap like a flicked twisted straw with how rigid she was. She was too engrossed on the golden yellow digit on top of the doors to notice that he had managed to sneak in behind her.

And now she could feel his body heat emanate from behind her, and she knew if she stepped back she would dig her heels on his polished shoes. The back of her neck was warming up, and she could not tell if it was his breath that was causing it, or if it was the wild beating of her heart.

Then she remembered her resolution that she would not let him affect her like this anymore. So she squared her shoulders and retorted, "Why would you care? I'm not obliged to follow on everything you said _any longer_."

She heard her mouth spit out the words harshly, and she could almost smile at this newfound confidence. Although she must admit he was right. She should have thrown that short-sleeved green bolero over her white top. It was not her fault that Ino decided to do laundry that day, leaving her with only the choice of her black bra.

There was a pause. She thought he had submitted and decided not to bother her any further when a hand engulfed her upper arm. In reflex her eyes darted upwards, and almost groaned when it only displayed '12'. Maybe it would be better if she just press the button for the next floor, and then she could get off right away. But that would just show him that she was still affected by his presence, that she had not moved on yet. Which was not true.

Her feet was itching to just get away from him, and he probably could feel the goosebumps on her arm. She tried to calm down the frantic pace of her heart, she was not supposed to act this way around him! One time she was sure that she had herself in check, and then he dared touch her arm and her emotions came reeling in and sending her resolve to oblivion.

"Sakura."

Her eyes looked up the doors again and swore under her breath. She convinced herself it would not be any longer, just fourteen more floors to go. The hand on her bare arm was a flame on her skin, and she want nothing else but to swat it away. And just when she was about to do so, she stopped short.

"Sakura," her heart clenched at the remorse in his tone, and suddenly she could not bring herself to slap his hand away.

"I'm sorry."

'_I'm... sorry?'_

The rims of her eyes pricked in preparation for the upcoming tears. She suddenly wanted to yell at him, to punch him and slap him and do anything to hurt him. To at least let him feel how she felt that time, when he left her crying and desperate for him not to go. She wanted to scream at him in frustration and in confusion, and she wanted to ask him why just now. Why when she had perfectly moved on and was looking ahead to a bright, loving future. Why when her heart was healing enough that she was not afraid for it to bleed again.

Why did he have to leave her heart broken, and then come back to stomp on it again?

"Sasuke," gently, she covered her hand around his, prying his fingers off her arm weakly. He must have seen the rock on her finger, because the tight grip he had on her loosened until she could easily shook his hand away.

She looked up at him, the tears there but not falling. He still looked as handsome as ever, and she fought the urge to caress his face with her hand. There was a line between them now, a line that she was not willing to cross to be on his side again. He was the one who left her side, and now that she had put a barrier between them, she would not let him cross it.

"You should have said that a long time ago," she whispered, but she knew by the way he clenched his fists that he heard her perfectly well.

She could not remember how it had turned out this way. One time he was just making a teasing comment about what she was wearing, and the next they were dwelling on a very delicate subject matter and her composure was reduced to that of crying.

Hastily she wiped her tears away, hoping her face would not be as red once she got to the main office. It would do her no good if her fiancé started questioning her about her dishevelled state.

She took a deep breath and turned her back on him. She would forget this had ever happened, and go on through the day like any other normal days. This was the finale, the closure, the ending. She would visit her fiancé first thing, have a little chat with him and then go on with her business meetings.

The elevator doors open, and with heavy feet she stepped out of the lift without looking back.

"Say hi to my brother for me," he called, his voice full of regret.

She would not look back.

A tear slid down her cheek, but she managed to give a steady reply. "I will... goodbye, Sasuke."

❧.**lift**


End file.
